Chapter 16
Daniella had initially looked forward to her Hong Kong trip with the autopartion of a relaxing time but her encrannter with Mr. Blue Eyes drawically shifted her plans. She had devised a cunning scheme to make Marcus Madrigal mefind to her.
She was confident that his firtations nature would make him amenatide to her proposal the firmy helloved that everyone had a price, and she was willing to do whatever it took to have him at her disposal
“Hmmm, Marcus suits you. You look like a gadator from a bygone era, and I love your soulful time eyes,” she declared boldly, diamining the conventional reservations a well–bred woman would have.
Marcus wasn’t taken aback by her Muntness, if anything he would have been surprised if she’d chosen to put on a façade. “You’re refreshingly direct and hones. I like the responded though her distinct manner of speaking did raise his concerns.
“I know. So, I’m assuming we’re friends now,” she said after they shook hands. “If you ever need a friend during your stay in HK, don’t hesitate to call me.” She handed him her business card with a sweet smile Daniella thought she caught a subtle reaction when he received the card but decided to ignore it
Marcus was taken aback by her demeanor. This woman was not only blunt but carried a tinge of arrogance as well. Did she look down on him? The way she handed him her business card made her appear overly superior.
“I don’t need a friend, Dani. But I’m always open to a woman joining me in my bed,” he retorted, noticing the anger glinting in Daniella’s eyes.
She was clearly furious, and he regretted disclosing his identity to his client. To set things right, he decided to maintain his distance. She knew he wasn’t a saint, but she didn’t care. She only needed his body and the contribution he could make to her endeavor.
“I see. Well, see you around then,” she said.
Inside the elevator, she refused to make eye contact with him and remained silent. She was genuinely offended by his recent remark about not needing a friend but always welcoming a woman into his bed. She felt a strong urge to set things straight to salvage her pride.
“What floor?” she dared to ask, curious to know why he’d forgotten to press his floor number.
“Same as yours,” he replied.
Did she hear him correctly? Daniella gripped the handrail, feeling as if she might collapse with joy. Another idea sprang to mind when she noticed his concerned expression.
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“Oh no,” she pressed her forehead and gripped the handrail even tighter, gradually collapsing into his strong arms. She couldn’t help but congratulate herself on her acting skills.
“Dani, are you alright?” Marcus came to her aid, catching her before she fell to the floor.
When she didn’t respond, he had no choice but to carry her to her room. Once outside her hotel room, Marcus searched her purse for the card key. Daniella couldn’t help but wonder how Marcus knew her exact room number before he found the card key.
Could he be a close neighbor or the occupant of the room next to hers? She decided to put off asking such questions for later; the most important thing was that her plan had succeeded quite well.
Marcus laid her on the bed and massaged her fingers while applying firm pressure to the sensitive area between her thumb and index finger, a technique he’d learned to help someone regain consciousness.
She winced as he continued to press and massage the sensitive area between her fingers. To avoid further discomfort, she decided to regain consciousness and stirred in bed.
“Finally, you’re awake. How are you feeling?” Marcus asked.
“I’m fine, thank you,” she replied.
“Good. I’ll be going now,” Marcus said, standing up and walking toward the door.
He was leaving just like that? No advances, no attempt to touch her? Daniella felt a pang of disappointment–her plan had some flaws. As Marcus reached for the door, she sprang out of bed and stepped in front of him, blocking his exit.
“I didn’t get to thank you,” she said, her voice laced with unspoken intent.
“It’s alright. And by the way, I didn’t know you were such a good actress,” Marcus replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. He wasn’t as naive as she had hoped. He had recognized her act in the elevator and, to his surprise, had enjoyed the show.
Daniella’s eyes widened in shock. He had known all along and had chosen to stay silent. Plan A had failed, and she was certain another opportunity like this wouldn’t come again.
She glanced at his hands, her mind racing. Just as he reached for the door handle, Daniella acted. She grabbed the nearest bottle of wine and, with a swift motion, struck him hard. Marcus crumpled to the floor, and Daniella clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream.
She quickly knelt beside him, placing a trembling finger under his nose. Relief washed over her the faint warmth of his breath–he was still alive. What she had done was reckless, potentially deadly.
Struggling with his weight, Daniella dragged Marcus’s limp body onto her bed, inch by inch, her heart pounding. Once he was in place, she rummaged through her luggage, her mind focused on finding
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anything that could keep him immobilized.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered into his ear, guilt gnawing at her. Her hands moved frantically through her belongings until she found the shrink wrap she had purchased at the airport as a precaution. Some travelers used it to secure their luggage, wary of tampering.
It might seem odd, but in this moment, it was the perfect solution. Daniella quickly began wrapping Marcus from his shoulders down to his toes, the thick plastic cocooning him tightly. As she worked, she couldn’t resist taking a few pictures of the absurd scene, her lips curling into a small smile.
But as she stared at the image on her camera, reality hit her. She was wasting time, precious time that could be better spent on what came next. With a deep breath, Daniella turned back to Marcus
And then, Marcus groaned.
